


A Year of Wisteria and Plum

by Anonymous



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: Alternate Universe - Save Me Save You - WJSN (Music Video) Fusion, F/F, Femslash, Future, Getting Together, Magic School, Truly excessive quantities of flowers, Video Cameras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 22:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20460689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It was a year that never existed. They don't talk about it now.





	A Year of Wisteria and Plum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vandoorne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandoorne/gifts).

> Vandoorne gave me such amazing prompts! Choosing between them was hard, but I went with this video by WJSN, which is simply gorgeous: [Save Me, Save You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2wOBbRu3OOc).
> 
> This is manga-verse, but I've added Meiling. Clear card is briefly referenced but not spoiled.
> 
> Thanks to A-mouse for the beta. Any remaining errors are, as always, my own.

August 2006

The old VHS player on the floor accepts the tape with a _thunk_, and the television screen above it lights up in static.

Three years. That's the interval of peace, they have determined. The fourth time the cards flew free was last year, and their college campus had lit up in chaos, mischief everywhere.

But the third time....

  
  


April 2002

The picture on the screen resolves into a hand-cam following five girls in plaid high school uniforms, walking along railroad tracks. _Click_, _click_, _click_, red socks tucked into black shoes, heels striking the metal rails. Pink and white petals swirl across the ties in eddies of wind.

At least some of that wind is being caused by dancing fingertips. Two of the girls compete to pull the petals into complex twists and turns as though the wind is attached to their fingertips by invisible threads. _Clack_ goes a heel against the railroad track, and one of the girls stumbles, her thread caught.

"Sakura!"

The other girl competing turns around, smiling, and tucks her hair behind her ear.

"Ah, Tomoyo!" the short-haired girl blushes and waves her hands frantically. "Turn it off, turn it off!"

In the background, the other girls laugh good-naturedly, and the camera tips up to the blue, blue sky, showing a streak of white before going dark.

~

The entrance to the courtyard was a wooden door, painted green and nearly invisible beneath twining ivy that stayed green all year round, except for mid-fall, when it turned briefly crimson. The door always opened at a touch from any of the six girls who lived there.

A garden spread out beyond the door: a patch of cheerful daisies by the entrance, a tulip tree blooming like pink and white fire further in, and half a dozen cherry trees scattered throughout, spilling blossoms into every crevice. Further in, a tiny stream burbled into a koi pond, and a tiny bridge arched over it, railings wrapped in ribbons. The wind brought the sound of a single chime from a gazebo standing right in the center. Unlike the outer walls, which were ivy-covered, the inner ones looked like a hedge of morning glories, a jumble of pink and yellow and blue and white. It was a garden like a place half-remembered, as if someone thought _this is what a garden should be_ and behold, it was.

Bounding three edges of that garden were three small cottages. One stood knee-deep in a riot of sun-kissed freesia, one sat quietly shaded by crepe myrtles, and the third was wrapped in clinging wisteria, only the windows and door visible.

It was in the house hidden by wisteria that Tomoyo stood in the sitting room and said gently up the ladder, "Sakura, we may be late."

"Coming!!" Sakura stuffed her arm into the other sleeve of her jacket and found her red beret on top of the nightstand. "I'm sorry, Tomoyo, I overslept again!"

"It's alright." Tomoyo's voice carried laughter. "Only I can't run quite as fast as you."

Sakura stuck one socked foot down through the hole in the floor and descended the ladder quickly, not quite falling on top of her friend.

"Hold still," Tomoyo said gently, and Sakura paused her frenetic motion to allow those slim, familiar fingers to do up the buttons of her jacket. "There, now shoes, and then you can teach me how to run like you do."

They ran all the way to school with Sakura grasping Tomoyo's wrist, because she didn't know any other way to be sure she wouldn't lose Tomoyo in the rush. Above them in the school tower, the bells rang and rang, urging them on.

May 2002

"Chiharu, what are you working on?"

Chiharu looks up into the camera and sets down her pendulum. "Tarot readings. Here, come around so you can see."

The camera turns, looking down at the cards in the correct direction, with the pocket-watch shaped altameter beside them.

"I finished drawing the whole deck, so now I'm holding the pendulum over each card and marking its arc," Chiharu explains. "This should prove a more scientific method of selecting cards than gut feelings."

She pauses, as if waiting for someone to say _Actually, did you know that Tarot cards were invented in Switzerland? They were originally used as chocolate wrappers-___

But no one speaks. Chiharu stares over the top of the camera, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

"It's a good idea," Tomoyo says softly. "Show me?"

She pulls up a chair, and Chiharu's face clears after a moment.

"Of course!"

The pendulum swings in circles and circles of gold, wide and wider, then narrowing abruptly.

"This one." Chiharu reaches out and flips the card to reveal a trail of water and a trail of fire, flowing together. "The Star."

~

They sat outside the faculty office, waiting for Mizuki-sensei to finish preparing tomorrow's lesson. The hallway was warm with sunlight and the wooden bench more comfortable than it had any right to be. Meiling sprawled on the other side of Tomoyo, playing with the sunbeams like a cat, catching and pulling on each one, twisting them into threads and wires.

Sakura watched for a moment, her eyelids drooping. Colors danced and swayed, and she swayed with them until her head came to rest on Tomoyo's shoulder.

Tomoyo raised a hand to pet her hair with gentle strokes. Sakura smiled and drifted away, warm and happy.

  
  


2006

The tapes are worn, some of the scenes faded from being overplayed. There are digital copies now, the highest quality writeable DVDs with years and months carefully printed on them. "10th grade" they all say, but they sit in a separate box from the others that say "10th grade" on a completely different set of memories.

  
  


June 2002

The walls of the classroom come into view, the black candle sconces and the ancient stone, polished smooth. A drumming sound resolves itself into the patter of rain. There - a window, in shards of dull stained glass, streaked with droplets.

"How do we find the volume of a cylinder?" Mizuki-sensei asks from somewhere off-screen. The camera pans to focus on her hand, holding a piece of chalk, hovering above the incongruous blackboard standing in the middle of the room. "Yanagisawa-san?"

"Find the area of the circle, then multiply by the height."

"Exactly." Mizuki-sensei wrote the equation in simple yet elegant script. "Now, how do we prove that?"

The room is silent but for the scratch of feather quills on paper. The rain pours down outside.

"Mathematics asks us to lay our foundations carefully. We may leap to conclusions, but then we must prove each step in between. That is how we build an understanding of the world. It is how we predict the future. How many drops will fall into this cylinder before it overflows? We can calculate the rate the rain falls, and estimate when it will happen."

Mizuki-sensei turns, and suddenly her face is fully framed by the camera's view. She speaks directly into it.

"For those who are sick and absent today, you will be able to watch us prove this. After we do so, please consider a different problem for yourself. Lay out the assumptions that brought you to that conclusion, then prove it. This is good practice for the rest of your life."

The camera watches, silently, as the class deconstructs the very idea of a perfect circle.

~

Wisteria draped around the cottage like bunches of soft, pastel grapes swaying in the wind, dripping with rain. They half-covered the windows, so the view of gray clouds and gray rain and gray thoughts was interrupted by a violent layer of green and pale purple lashing back and forth in the wind. Behind the house, a forlorn plum tree drooped without fruit, sporting a few irregular patches of leaves that dripped, dripped on the stones beneath it, loud enough to be heard above the rest of the rain.

Sakura sneezed.

She lay back against her pillow, head throbbing, reaching absently for a handkerchief. She was almost never sick like this - at most all she ever did was overextend her magic, and everyone did that sometimes. It was strange but as the first drops of rainy season fell this year, she had felt her energy drain out like someone had pulled a plug from her chest. It was unnerving.

The door downstairs opened and closed, followed by footsteps. A few moments later, Tomoyo's face popped up through the floor of the bedroom.

"Oh, you're awake." Tomoyo smiled. "How are you feeling?"

In answer, Sakura sneezed again.

Tomoyo crawled further up the ladder and somehow, miraculously, was balancing a tray on one hand. 

"I brought you soup and peppermint tea from the cafeteria. Please try some."

Sakura nodded, letting herself be coddled and cared for in a way she vaguely missed, as if in a dream from long ago where many people looked after her without her having to ask. Here and now, Tomoyo didn't comment on it, just smiled and fed her soup and felt her forehead with the back of one soft hand.

"You'll be better in a few days," she predicted, eyes wise with too much knowing.

And Sakura was, though she did miss the soup.

July 2002

A blue butterfly dances about the sconces and across stained glass windows. The camera follows it.

Behind the camera, Tomoyo says, "Mizuki-sensei calls them stray thoughts that always go back to their owner. If I follow this one, I wonder where it will go?"

Around and around through the halls, shoes clicking on stone floors. Other students wave at the camera, or perhaps at its holder, as it goes by. Some see the butterfly and smile.

"The library," Chiharu suggests as she walks by, and she's right.

The butterfly flits among the rows of ancient, hand-copied books. It hovers for a moment beside one shelf, then darts through. A hand reaches out from behind the camera and pulls down one book to reveal-

"Tomoyo-chan!" Naoko blinks, looking surprised. She pushes her glasses back up on her nose. "What are you doing in the library?"

The butterfly is no longer visible.

"Just following a thought," Tomoyo says. "What are you working on?"

Naoko brightens, only half-visible through the gap in the books. "There's a story! I'm trying to track down the oldest version. I've already gone back a thousand years, but I think it's even older than that."

"What kind of story?"

"It changes a lot, but mostly - do you know the story of the Cowherd and the Weaver?"

"Of course."

"It's a bit like that, but the solution is a single star with a long tail. Not to walk across, but to stitch up the spaces between people, so they can be happy. Together, I mean."

"When you stitch a seam, doesn't it pull on other parts of the fabric?"

Naoko nods with a serious expression. "That's what the variations seem to be about. All the ways the fabric warps differently each time."

She closes a book. The echo of it sounds oddly loud.

"I think there's an older version here somewhere."

The blue butterfly has reappeared.

~

Fireflies danced above the stream that ran through the garden, weaving around each other as Sakura leaned against the side of the little bridge, watching. It was late, but she often had trouble sleeping in the heat of summer. Tomoyo had offered to come out and keep her company.

"They look happy," Sakura said, watching the tiny lights flicker. She leaned out and offered the flat of her hand. One drifted over and settled there, tickling her palm. Gently, she closed her fingers, forming a cage around it. The firefly didn't move. It lit up gently - bright, cold light - then faded again, as rhythmically as if it were still in flight. "Do you think they mind being put in jars?"

"I don't think they know what a jar is," Tomoyo replied. "But that doesn't mean they're happy in a small space, when they could be free to fly wherever they want."

Sakura didn't ask _If you were free, would you fly away?_ She knew there was no real answer. Tomoyo kept herself where she was.

Slowly, Sakura opened her hand. The firefly crawled a bit then took flight, buzzing into the crowd, until she couldn't pick it out from the others anymore. Blinking, blinking, different colors and different speeds, swirling above the water.

"They're like stars," she whispered, "so far away I can't tell which is which."

When she glanced up, Tomoyo was looking at her with wide eyes.

  
  


2006

There is a glass of water sitting untouched and sweating on the low table. There is a hand-stitched blanket draped alone over the back of a chair. There is an open door to a room with two beds, a room with no lights on.

The VCR whirs and whirs.

  
  


August 2002

"The meaning of each flower alone is malleable," Midori-sensei explains. Her fingers sketch the air above the vase on the desk in front of her. "It's affected by the number of flowers of that type, the state of each, the length of their stems, and the other flowers they join. The meaning of an arrangement is created from all of this combined."

Rika raises her hand. "Then should we interpret the intent from how the individual pieces connect?"

"You can do that, Sasaki-san, or you can grasp its meaning intuitively, from the emotional impression the arrangement gives."

"Which way is better?" Meiling asks, frowning down at the empty dish in front of her.

"Neither," Midori-sensei answers. "The meaning of an arrangement is like the meaning of a poem. The creator has an intent, yet everyone who experiences their work leaves with a different impression."

At the bottom of the camera's view, Chiharu pokes her dish. It sprouts a single white camellia nestled in the heart of tall stalks of lavender. Midori-sensei smiles and congratulates her, but Chiharu merely props her chin on her fist, frowning.

The camera tilts down to catch Tomoyo's finger lightly touching the edge of the vase in front of her. A branch of pink cherry blossoms springs forth, tangled around a branch of white plum blossoms. Binding them together are winding vines of wisteria whose blooms are nearly past their prime.

~

"Go in pairs," Kimura-sensei told them, handing out candle holders to the tenth graders. "Light them yourselves as you leave the room. The stations are marked on your maps."

Sakura clutched their map with shaking hands.

"Sakura," Tomoyo murmured as she lit the candle with an absent flick of her fingers, "we're only exploring the school at night. No one will dress like a ghost to scare you this time."

Sakura whimpered and crumpled the paper. Tomoyo's hand settled over hers for a moment, then stroked until Sakura's fists and the map both unclenched. Tomoyo took her by the hand and pulled her on.

The last number on their map, just after the terrifying auditorium, was the bell tower.

"Th-there won't be any g-ghosts, will there?"

"No, just Akizuki-sensei." Tomoyo held the candle higher to dispel the shadows in the doorway. After a moment's hesitation, they stepped through into the cavernous space.

The tower felt open far beyond what it should have. Their footsteps echoed distantly, far beyond the circle of light cast by the little flame in Tomoyo's hand.

A pair of red eyes blinked at them out of the darkness, but before Sakura could scream, Akizuki-sensei had stepped into the light with a cocky grin.

"My last visitors! You survived the auditorium, Kinomoto?"

Sakura whimpered.

"Well, that's good!" Their assistant teacher bounced on her toes. "This is the best part, anyway. Do you know what people in Europe use bells like this for?"

"To tell time?" Tomoyo asked politely. Her fingers were laced with Sakura's now, holding them close together.

Akizuki-sensei threw her head back and laughed. "Of course! But they have other purposes, such as summoning people to class or prayer. In a way, you can think of these bells as a kind of summoning spell."

Sakura blanched.

"For the living, right?" Tomoyo asked quickly.

"Of course! And since you two are the last ones for my location, that means everyone should have reached their last place by now. Would you like to ring the bell to summon them all back to the main hall?"

"Sakura, you're athletic. You should do it," Tomoyo encouraged her. "I'll hold the candle so you can see.

"Each bell has its own rope." Akizuki-sensei disagreed. "_I'll_ hold the candle. Both of you will need to pull. One and then the other; time it so you're alternating."

Letting go of Tomoyo was difficult, but the rope was sturdy and scratchy beneath Sakura's palms. She leaned nearly her entire weight on it and felt more than heard the side of the bell strike the clapper. The echo of it in her teeth made her feel like _she_ was the bell being rung. When Tomoyo rang hers, a higher note, Sakura let out a breath, almost laughing. She pulled again, and Tomoyo, eyes bright in the candlelight, followed her pace.

The ringing back and forth tasted like magic on the back of her tongue.

September 2002

"What's wrong?" Tomoyo's voice comes from beside the camera.

In front of it, a deerstalker-capped Meiling stands beside an empty birdcage. The golden door to the cage is closed, and the base is clean. It looks like there has never been a bird inside in the first place.

"The bird is missing." Meiling pulls out a mirror but holds it up like a magnifying glass. "We have to find it."

"Are you sure there was a bird there?" Tomoyo's voice is uncertain.

"Yes." Meiling sounds quite certain. "We have to find it before it gets too lost."

As she leaves the room, the camera just catches a glimpse of the wires of the cage unraveling like tightly-wrapped gold ribbons, flapping in a sudden draft. Beyond the windows, clouds skitter across the blue, blue sky.

"Come on!" Meiling shouts in the distance.

There is a brief black screen, then the picture returns: a scattering of birdseed against pale stone. Several birds swoop down and begin feeding. The mourning doves coo as they strut and peck, while the sparrows dart in and out of the flock. Each bird is marked a little different; each one unique.

The camera pans back a bit to catch Meiling, crouched by the edge of the group. Her cupped hands are full of seeds. Some of the birds come up and peck at them like offerings. She squints at them.

"None of these are the one I was looking for," she says. The mirror beside her glints in the sunlight, flashing light in her eyes that she squints against.

"But aren't you glad you met them, all the same?" Tomoyo asks, as a dove takes off with a flutter of white wings. The camera pans up and just catches the tail of a falling star searing across the bright blue dome of the sky, bright enough to be seen in broad daylight.

~

The six of them took tea in the gazebo, wind chimes singing softly above their heads. There were six chairs and six cups and a round table that felt a bit too small, as if they had recently outgrown it.

"Flowers." Tomoyo brushed her fingers over the forget-me-nots in a vase at the center of the table. "They always mean feelings of some sort, but they each have different meanings in different places. They're like faces, or words, or gestures. People can misread them."

The tea set was gold-rimmed and very delicate, roses painted on the cups and saucers, on the teapot and even the tray. The sugar bowl had thorns that looked like they could prick an unwary finger. Sakura's finger twitched; she didn't lift her cup, in case she might break the delicate stem of the handle.

"Crows," Naoko said. "If you hear a rush of crows' wings through the air, you should be careful. Something's about to happen."

A round of nodding heads. Everyone knew that one, even Sakura, who was aware that she didn't always listen as closely as she ought.

"Hm, my turn." Rika put one finger to her lips for a moment, thoughtful. "A hazy ring around the moon - that's love, right?"

"It's a dream, isn't it?" Chiharu asked, brows drawn down in confusion.

"Rain," Meling insisted. "It's caused by spring haze, so it means rain. But everyone connects spring to love in old poetry."

Naoko nodded. "Old poems and modern pop songs, too. You know a lot about poetry, don't you?"

Meiling blushed and didn't answer.

"What happens if there's a ring in autumn?" Tomoyo asked. Sakura could see the way Meiling relaxed as soon as everyone's attention was off her. Trust Tomoyo to be kind.

"I still think there's something dream-like about it," Chiharu said. "Maybe that's the haze. Walking through uncertainty, not able to see the other side."

"That sounds like love to me," Rika replied.

"It's like flowers," Sakura blurted, and felt her face burn as everyone turned to look at her. "We- we all see it differently."

"Exactly like that." Tomoyo smiled. "More tea?"

Everyone nodded, and Tomoyo poured. Even though they had been sitting here for what felt like hours, the tea still gave off a cloud of steam that hovered like a haze over each cup, obscuring the liquid beneath.

"Happy birthday, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura murmured. The wind chimes rang out above them as Tomoyo set the sugar bowl by Sakura's cup and scooped out a cube for her, uncaring of the thorns.

Sakura pushed her lips through the haze to drink. The tea was sweet, not bitter at all, despite having sat so long. The handle didn't break.

  
  


2006

The door to the balcony is open, letting the cool evening air in. The last of the rainy season has passed, so the days are bright and hot. It's vacation, technically. This hasn't stopped the apartment from being empty of all but one occupant for the whole day.

  
  


October 2002

"Mizuki-sensei, why do people wish on stars?"

Mizuki-sensei looks up from sweeping the steps of the school. There's a tinkling echo of bells from her jewelry as she smiles warmly.

"I knew you would ask me that, Tomoyo-san."

"Because you used mathematics to determine the probable future?"

"Because I know you."

Mizuki-sensei turns away for a moment, setting her broom aside, then sits carefully on the recently-swept top step. She pats the space beside her. The camera pans until it can only focus on the side of her face from a bit too close to be comfortable. Mizuki-sensei is looking up into the distance as though the camera doesn't bother her.

"Stars comfort and fascinate us, don't you think?" Her voice is gentle, too gentle.

"Yes." Tomoyo's voice cracks on just that one word.

"The sun and the moon are close by. We regulate our lives by them. Their paths and changes are relatively easy to calculate. Numerous cultures have done so for thousands of years."

"And stars?"

"Are incredibly more complex, and farther away. Except the falling ones, of course."

"Those burn up in the atmosphere, don't they?"

"Some of them, certainly. But many of them do land, bringing a bit of outer space to us here on earth."

"Does that mean we can touch stars?"

Mizuki-sensei turns, grinning into the camera. "Falling stars at least, yes. Once they come to rest."

~

Sakura found Tomoyo asleep on the field outside the school where they often sat to study. She was lying on a blanket decorated with cherry blossoms and flopped halfway across an open book. A dozen others lay scattered about her, along with papers and quills.

Sakura gently took the open inkwell, stoppered it, and set it aside on the grass.

"Tomoyo," she whispered, but Tomoyo didn't move. Her hair fanned out around her like a banner, and her books lay like a wall. Sleeping beauty inside the castle. 

Sakura looked away and glanced at the titles of the books instead.

_The Motions of the Planets_ and _Maps of the Cosmos_ and _Elliptical Orbits_ and _Reaching for the Stars_.

Her notes, from what Sakura could see, were nothing but circles and arrows.

Sakura let her sleep and didn't ask, _Are you looking for something?_

  
  


November 2002

"It's like baking," Rika explains to the camera with a serene expression. "You mix the ingredients in the correct steps."

"And then you get precious jewels?" Tomoyo's voice comes from behind the camera.

"No, this is already a precious jewel." Rika is still smiling, but it's wistful now. "It's a teardrop, see? But we can make it into something everyone can feel."

The camera zooms in, and indeed the diamond-looking jewel pinched between the tweezers in Rika's hand is teardrop-shaped, flawless, flat on one side. When she slides a magnifying glass under the camera lens, a crystalline structure appears, varied and wild like a tangle of undergrowth. The camera pulls back.

"What will you turn it into?"

Carefully, Rika settles the teardrop into a metal dish. "I think it wants to be a lens. For a telescope, I mean."

"Is it big enough?" Tomoyo sounds surprised.

"Naoko says the crystalline structure of a tear depends on the emotion that produced it, not its size." Rika takes a dropper and adds two more drops of an ink-blue fluid to the flask at her elbow. "There, a little night sky should help."

Taking the flask, she pours it gently into the metal dish. There's a spark, a sudden streak like elemental sodium dropped into water, and then the liquid lifts off in a fog and dissipates.

The camera leans forward. There, in the metal dish, is a single lens that looks like the kind of glass from which dreams are arranged.

"What will we be able to see?" Tomoyo asks.

"I think if we knew that, we wouldn't build telescopes."

~

A piano stood in the corner of the garden, unsheltered yet never damaged by rain or wind. Sakura watched Tomoyo run her fingers over the keys, lightly like a lover. Above them, pines trembled in an autumn breeze.

"Play something," Sakura asked. Commanded? With Tomoyo, a request was as good as an order. It was something Sakura was finally admitting to herself, a terrifying, sharp truth like fragments of mirror caught in her chest.

Tomoyo smiled. There was no camera in evidence today. This was a moment just for them.

A single note, high and clear, fading slowly. Tomoyo brought her other hand up slowly, like a dancer preparing to leap. A few more scattered notes, and then a swell of sound. Above it, Tomoyo opened her mouth in a wordless echoes that made Sakura's throat feel tight.

There were words to this song. Sakura had known them, once upon a time. Yet here and now, there was nothing but the music.

  
  


2006

What makes a person want to record their life as it happens? What makes a person want to record _someone else's_ life while it happens? Is it joy in the moment or fear that the moment might pass forever and disappear into the blurred distance of memory?

  
  


December 2002

The camera clicks on in low light, revealing the observation patio, where astronomy class is held.

"An astronomical chart is a map of the sky over time. This one," Akizuki-sensei holds up a single sheet of black paper with silver-inked arcs and circles on it, and the camera zooms in obediently, "predicts where we will find the planet Venus tonight."

"Couldn't we just look up at it?" Meiling asks. The camera swivels to show a bright star in the west. There's a red dot higher in the sky, and a smaller yellow one even closer to the horizon. Venus, Mars, and Mercury all awake tonight, brightening the world and glinting off the frost on the ground below.

"Yes, but when did it rise? What will occlude it? If we map its history, its future won't be so unclear." The camera pans back long enough to catch the glint in Akizuki-sensei's eyes when she says, "For the next month, you will work in pairs to track specific planets and stars, to predict which ones we'll be able to see with the telescope next month."

"We'll take Venus," Sakura says just off-camera.

~

Sakura led the way up the steps to the overlook, her pinky finger hooked with Tomoyo's and her other arm carrying their observation supplies. The sun was setting and their breath puffed out in fog before their faces.

Around them, the lanterns on each pole lit up without human intervention, the tiny spells laid on each detecting the loss of light. One stayed stubbornly dark for another full minute before finally flickering, flicking, brightening.

"It's alright," Sakura told it. "You got there eventually."

She felt Tomoyo's gaze and turned back to catch her smiling.

"What?"

"Nothing. You're right. It's alright as long as we get there eventually."

Sakura blinked, unsure, but it was growing dark, and the observation point would be the best place to watch stars until the telescope was finished.

She tugged; behind her Tomoyo followed willingly.

  
  


January 2003

The timestamp in the corner of the video says two in the morning on January 1. On the table on screen, there's a plate of cookies and a pot of tea and a handwritten sign that says "No Scary Stories Pls!"

The camera pans back to show the first floor room of Wisteria House, which is spotlessly clean, other than the six girls piled on the floor with pillows and blankets. Through the thin curtains, snow is just visible falling in soft clumps.

"This year I'm going to become even stronger," Meiling vows, curling up her arm to show off her bicep. Chiharu squeezes it and gives the camera an impressed look and a thumbs up.

"I'm going to finish a novel," Naoko says. "Actually finish one. Writing, I mean."

"You will," Rika assures her.

"I will continue the search for more tapes for my video camera," Tomoyo says from behind the camera.

Meiling snorts. "How have you still not found any?"

Tomoy's voice sounds uncertain. "It is a bit odd, isn't it...."

"Sakura, what's your resolution?" Naoko asks. 

Sakura looks up, blinking into the camera's lens. "I'm going to- I guess I'll- I think I should practice paying more attention. To things."

Meiling snorts. "Good luck with that."

~

They sat on a soft blanket with the cold, hard ground beneath it. Somehow it wasn't snowing that day, but it was chilly out here in the open field. Sakura rubbed her hands together, then startled as Tomoyo took Sakura's hands in hers and blew on them gently.

Her hands warmed quickly. So did her face.

"Th-thanks, Tomoyo-chan," she whispered, and Tomoyo beamed at her.

"Of course."

In front of the class, Rika was looking through the telescope, adjusting the knobs slightly under Akizuki-sensei's instruction. It was a beautiful brass instrument, more complex than Sakura expected.

"Found it!" Rika called out happily. "Oh, Chiharu, come look."

"What is it?"

"Polaris. The North Star."

"Oh," Naoko breathed. "The star everyone uses to find their way home."

"Do you want to have a look?" Sakura asked, as their class stood up and began to crowd around the telescope.

Tomoyo shook her head. "Maybe when everyone else has finished. I can see the stars just fine from here."

Then she laid her head down on Sakura's shoulder. Sakura hardly dared to breathe, for fear of dislodging her.

  
  


2006

What goes in must come out. The rule of the cards. The camcorder had been in Tomoyo's hands when she entered, the extra tapes in a bag slung over her shoulder. So they had come out with her when she left.

The next tape goes in, _thunk_. "February," its cardboard case and sticky paper label said. No years written on the tapes, unlike the DVDs. It was a year that never existed.

  
  


February 2003

"It's rising!" Rika and Naoko step back from the small hot air balloon, holding the rope as the heat from the lantern slowly warms the air and lifts the balloon off the ground. It's no more than three feet tall, but the patterns on it glitter in the sunset light.

"Ugh," Meiling says. "They're _beating_ us. Try harder!"

"We're trying too hard," Chiharu counters. "Look, the lantern lights from the energy between our hands. It has to flow, not just push. We're just shoving energy at each other. We have to give and accept, back and forth."

Meiling's face says _I have no idea how to do that,_ but her lips are pressed together and her brow furrowed, and she keeps trying.

From beside the camera, Kimura-sensei cheerfully asks, "How about you, Daidouji-kun and Kinomoto-kun?" The camera turns and catches them sitting quietly on either side of the lantern, leaning forward over it, foreheads pressed together.

The lantern shines brightly. The pair simply seem to have forgotten to hold the balloon over the top.

"I'll... come back to you," Kimura-sensei says. Behind them, the sun continues to set.

~

The garden became a different place, snowbound.

Evergreen branches swayed around the edges, occasionally dropping a clump of snow, and the stream could be heard trickling quietly below gaps in the ice. Something about the snow muffled sound. Even the wind chime could barely be heard a few steps beyond the gazebo. The piano was hidden; doves and sparrows slept in their secret places. Even the brightness of the sky was muted by stormclouds.

And yet, at one end of the garden, a lantern balloon floated outside a cottage covered in brown, patiently-waiting vines. Magical energy swirled in the lantern below it, and the light swelled upwards to give a warm glow to the pattern on the balloon itself. Wisteria draped across a cherry tree, both in blossom at once.

That never happened in real life, but art doesn't care about these things.

Behind the house there was a quieter yet no less significant development. A tree, a simple plum tree - but already budding a mix of white and red blossoms. Was it too early? Perhaps. Or perhaps winter would end sooner than all this snow seemed to suggest.

Inside the house was warm and dry, blanketed and embraced by the covering vines.

"Tomoyo," Sakura whispered, crawling out of her bed and into Tomoyo's. "Read me a story?"

"Of course," Tomoyo agreed, picking up her favorite from the bedside table. "Once upon a time, there was a brave princess...."

Sakura laid her head on Tomoyo's shoulder and listened.

March 2003

"We caught so many butterflies inside the school building today." Sakura's voice is breathless with laughter and exertion. The camera shows that all the snow has melted off the high walkway and the stone railing, along with the trees and fields below. Winter has fled, leaving spring behind to bud. The sun shines down brightly, glinting off the butterflies in the enormous jar Sakura is carrying.

"Mizuki-sensei said we can release them here." Tomoyo's voice comes from beside the camera, as always.

"Ah, good." Sakura props the jar on her knee and pries the lid open. "There you go, butterflies! Fly free!"

The butterflies rise up out of the jar, fluttering out one after another until they form a cloud. And then they descend on Sakura and Tomoyo, filling the camera's field of view.

Sakura shouts, there's the sound of smashing glass, and then Tomoyo whispers, "Oh."

~

Glass shattered, and then the butterflies were gone. As was Tomoyo.

A sudden sound of rushing wings filled the air, and Sakura whirled, startled. Crow's wings fluttered sharply, covering the sun for just a moment.

The bells rang, loud and disordered. An alarm.

"Tomoyo-" Sakura turned, searching. She saw Rika and Naoko over by the school door, clinging to each other's hands as stonedust and plaster rained down. 

"Tomoyo, where-" There was a photograph in her hands suddenly, of Chiharu sitting all alone in the auditorium. It was meant to be their class photo, but she was the only one in it.

"To-" On the field below, Meiling was practicing her forms. One moment she was moving with elegant precision, and the next she was dissolving into green fairy lights that spread out and disappeared.

The photograph in Sakura's hands caught fire.

The door shattered.

"_Tomoyo!_"

Somewhere, Sakura knew, a house covered in sleeping wisteria vines was burning.

~

Sakura was suddenly standing in the classroom, alone, surrounded by empty desks stacked with books and quills. There was no sound except the pounding of her heart. Her face was wet.

Did the rest of the world even exist?

_Sometimes it's enough to just name the card,_ a voice reminded her. A very familiar voice.

"Kero?"

_That's not the card's name._ The voice was full of laughter like sunlight. Sakura turned in circles, searching for the source.

_Can you imagine what it might be?_

Her eyes fell on the telescope, still sitting in the corner of the classroom. Stars, falling stars, dreams - "Wish!"

The world ended in white light.

April 2002

Sakura blinked her eyes open. Several people were talking, their voices overlapping each other in waves of worry. Then, softly, right by her ear-

"Sakura-chan, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Sakura rubbed her eyes. "Are you? What day is it?"

"I think it's your birthday party. This looks familiar."

"It's still March, isn't it?" Sakura began to panic that she'd missed the last few weeks of school.

"Of last year," Tomoyo clarified. "Your birthday party last year."

Sakura looked around, taking in the other girls sitting up, Kero-chan slumped on the table pretending to be a stuffed toy, and Yukito-san blinking as he brought in a giant cake.

"Is everyone okay?" he asked, eyes wide.

~

Later, Sakura found the newly re-formed Wish card tucked into her book. It was the first one she recovered after this third great disappearance.

"Whose wish was that?" Sakura asked, but the figure on the card stayed silent, its eyes closed.

Sakura never got an answer, even after she spent her entire second attempt at tenth grade re-collecting the rest of the cards and asking them, one by one, _whose wish, whose wish?_

  
  


2006

The apartment door opens. Someone sets down a heavy bag and removes their shoes.

"Sakura?"

A light switches on.

"Why is it dark in here?"

Sakura blinks up from sitting akimbo on the floor. She must look a fright, with her uncombed hair and rumpled pajamas, but Tomoyo only says "oh" very softly and comes forward to rest the back of her soft hand against Sakura's cheek.

"You feel warm. Are you sick?"

Sakura shakes her head.

"Lonely?"

Sakura makes an inarticulate noise and leans forward, lets her forehead fall against Tomoyo's belly. A soft night-breeze blows in through the curtains, relieving the heat of the day. Tomoyo's hands are gentle in her hair, on the nape of her neck.

There's a click and a whir as the VCR decides its work is done for today. It spits out the last tape. Tomoyo must see the label - of course she must.

"Have you been watching these the whole time I was gone?"

There's nothing accusatory in Tomoyo's voice, just worry. All the embarrassment and furious blushing is on Sakura's part. She nods into the soft fabric of Tomoyo's dress, unwilling to look up.

Tomoyo doesn't ask, because Tomoyo never asks for much. Just 'wear this dress please' and 'please let me follow you' and 'please be happy' and 'please please don't make me leave yet, not yet, not for a little while longer.' Never 'tell me what you meant by that,' never 'do you remember...?' Tomoyo asks only for small things, and Sakura demands the big ones without asking.

Should that change?

"Come on," Tomoyo says gently but with purpose, "I'll cook you supper while you shower. Then you can eat shaved ice and sleep properly. I know it's hard for you when it's hot out."

And even that, Tomoyo remembers - that Sakura runs hot and has trouble sleeping in the heat. Tomoyo records their lives, but she remembers the details without any recording at all.

Sakura reaches up and wraps her arms around Tomoyo's waist, under the cascade of her hair.

"Sakura?"

"Do you remember?" Sakura asks, her voice rough from disuse these past few days that Tomoyo has spent on family obligations. "Do you-"

"Yes."

"All-?"

"Yes."

Tomoyo shifts, perhaps nervous, perhaps to go start cooking. Sakura tightens her arms.

"I want to be brave," Sakura whispers.

"You're always brave."

Sakura tips her head back and laughs, but what she really wants to do is cry. It comes out halfway in between. "Not when it's lo- li- feelings."

"Sakura." Tomoyo is looking down, her hair hanging around them like a veil of wisteria blossoms blocking out the world. "You are the most loving person I've ever known. Please never put yourself down for caring about so many people. It's one of your most endearing qualities."

Sakura wants to hide again, but Tomoyo's eyes are shining and she seems very, very certain. There's no hesitation when she touches Sakura's cheek again, stroking it gently.

"As long as you let me stay by your side, I'll be happy. I don't need anything else."

The fact that Tomoyo believes that doesn't make Sakura any less sad. If anything, it makes it worse.

"How do you always do that?" Sakura asks. "How do you set yourself aside so selflessly?"

Tomoyo smiles. It's a little sad. "The place where you're afraid to go is the same place I've been for over half my life."

Oh. _Oh._

Sakura is reaching up before she's even really thought about it, forcing herself to stand on tingling, half-asleep feet without pulling Tomoyo down. She's strong enough for that, surely?

And then she is. Rising up, bracing herself. One hand sliding through the waterfall of Tomoyo's hair, letting curls drip from her fingers in wide-eyed wonder, the other tucking those same curls behind one familiar, ever-patient ear.

Can she really be afraid to go anywhere Tomoyo is already waiting for her?

Sakura leans down and gently, like touching a flower petal so it doesn't bruise, brushes her lips against Tomoyo's. For a moment they stay like that as the world shifts on its axis, and then Tomoyo presses in deeper, kisses her properly. Sakura holds on, literally, her arms sliding around Tomoyo's shoulders to brace herself against suddenly-weak knees.

They pull back after a few moments. Sakura's face is so hot she must be beet red, but she still manages to confess, "I'm sorry I took so long."

"You found your way here in the end," Tomoyo whispers against her lips. "That's what matters." She presses her forehead to Sakura's and lets her eyes slip shut, as if savoring this moment to remember it forever, not by sight but by feel.

The window is still open. A breeze wanders in, dances around them, and meanders back out again. It smells faintly of wisteria.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to hhertzof for running this challenge!
> 
> A few flower notes from Japanese flower language: Wisteria is generally taken as loyal love/all-consuming love/unchanging love (it can also be tragic). Plum is first love.


End file.
